PART 2 – CHAPTER 115
JESS
The music pulsed through the house, the bass vibrating in my chest as I swayed to the beat with Sofie in the center of the makeshift dance floor. The room spun slightly, but that could be because I was spinning. I wasn’t drunk, just all warm and fuzzy.
More like a warm, fuzzy, tipsy kind of way.
I wasn’t drunk–just enough to not give a shit right now.
Sofie was dancing with SpongeBob–cute SpongeBob, but still, SpongeBob. For once, she had a little confidence, even if it was alcohol–induced. I wanted her to have fun, but at the same time, I needed to pee.
“I think I need to find a bathroom,” I yelled over the music, leaning into her.
Sofie barely heard me, too busy grinning at SpongeBob. “Huh?”
“I’m fine!” I waved her off, not wanting to interrupt her night. “I’ll find it myself. Don’t worry!” The last time I did this, it almost turned out bad, but then again, I also probably wouldn’t have Luke. Only this time, I’m avoiding the stairs–too many jello shots.
She gave me a doubtful look, but I nodded firmly. “I’m good! Promise.”
The heat from the packed bodies around me, combined with the
PART 2 CHAPTER 115
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alcohol, made the room feel hotter than it was, and I tugged at the hem of my too–short witch costume for what felt like the millionth time tonight.
“Shit. There must be another part to this dress that I missed,” I mumbled to myself.
I weaved my way out of the living room, stepping over discarded cups and dodging people swaying a little too hard to the music. As I crossed into the hall, I felt a few appreciative stares and the occasional lingering glance, but I ignored them, focusing on my mission to find a bathroom.
Just as I turned a corner, someone dressed as a musketeer suddenly blocked my path. He had the whole ensemble down, complete with a feathered hat and a plastic sword at his waist. He was cute, but he wasn’t the bathroom.
“Well, aren’t you the prettiest witch I’ve ever seen,” he flirted, dimples showing as he smiled down at me.
I gave him a polite smile, hoping to just pass by, but when I stepped to the left, he mirrored me, blocking my way again.
I stopped, lifting my chin. “Yeah, sorry. No. Please move.”
His smile faltered, and his eyes flicked upward past me. His expression quickly fell, and I felt a shift in the air behind me- something that sent a shiver down my spine.
I turned slowly, heart racing, and there he was–Aiden. Dressed like Brad Pitt from Troy, ergo, no shirt… again. “Do you own a shirt? Should I buy you one?” I blurted out, and Aiden stared down at me for a second, chuckling. “Does it make you nervous?” Aiden asked, and I rolled my eyes and turned back
PART 2 CHAPTER 115
around. I’d rather take my chances with the musketeer.
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Before I could decide to move or say something, I turned back toward the musketeer, hoping to sidestep this awkward situation. But Aiden’s arm circled around me before I could even think about moving, pulling me flush to his half–naked body. I gasped as his head dipped down to my neck, his lips brushing dangerously close to my ear.
“This dress is way too short,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.
I stiffened, trying to regain control over myself, but the way his voice warmed me–his bare chest against my back–made it hard to think straight. I tugged at the hem of my skirt again as if that would somehow solve the problem.
“This is me leaving,” I mumbled, stepping out of his grasp.
To my surprise, Aiden let me go without a fight, his eyes unreadable as he watched me disappear down the hallway.
I practically sprinted the rest of the way, finding the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind me. Leaning against the door, I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm the racing in my chest.
My hands were trembling as I pulled out my phone, hovering over Luke’s name. I didn’t know why I was doing it, but my brain was spinning too fast, and I couldn’t think straight. I needed to talk to him. We barely spoke this week.
I pressed the call button.
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It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
Just when I was about to give up, someone answered.
“Luke’s phone, Jocelyn speaking.
I stared at the screen, dumbfounded. Jocelyn? Who the hell was Jocelyn?
Without thinking, I ended the call, my heart sinking, confusion and hurt mixing with the alcohol coursing through my veins. I suddenly felt angry, and that anxious feeling creeped up my spine again.
